


Play Me Like A

by ActualHurry



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Identity Porn, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 15:37:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18264287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActualHurry/pseuds/ActualHurry
Summary: The Drifter bails Shin Malphur out of would-be Praxic prison. Shin thanks him.(Takes place post-Allegiance Quest. Contains spoilers for the For Every Rose lorebook.)





	Play Me Like A

**Author's Note:**

> Back to my PWP oneshot roots! A looong time ago, like right around the time I posted the Warden of Nothing fic, Parisa prompted me to start messing around with an idea for Drifter giving up something to save Shin. I kept getting distracted by a hundred other things, but this is my quiet attempt to revisit it, even if it isn't exactly what I originally had in mind. Also, I love Aunor.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy. :)

The story of how Shin Malphur ended up cuffed by The Praxic Order was not a story that would be told to the masses like his striking rise to heroism. Rather, it was the story of Zyre Orsa’s ill-timed chance encounter with the Warlock Aunor, and then it was Dredgen Vale’s sacrifice to keep the rest of the Shadows free of the very Void-crafted tether that kept his wrists bound behind him now.

Shin shifted where he was seated on the grass, Aunor walking her long, slow strides around him. The Warlock who’d snapped the Void ‘round Shin’s wrists stood at a distance, keeping watch.

“You intimidate your usual prisoners?” Shin asked Aunor, conversational.

Aunor stopped in front of him. “If my presence concerns you, maybe it’s time you rethink your actions.”

The Cormorant Seal in her hold glittered in the sunlight. Shin flexed his fingers, imagining a brighter Light in his own fist. Nothing happened, the touch of the Void chilly even through his gloves.

“You’re the leader, aren’t you?” Aunor asked. “Orsa.”

“I prefer Dredgen Vale these days.”

“I will not honor that title.” Her voice was flat, no-nonsense, as she tucked away the Seal in favor of holding her shotgun once more.

Shin rolled his shoulders back, dispersing the tension there. “Worth a shot.”

They stared at each other in silence for a long moment. Shin’s helmet kept much of the sun filtered from his eyes, but Aunor seemed only stronger for it, her shadow casted long and tall across the ground.

Aunor racked her Quitclaim with a foreboding click. Shin leaned forward at it. “That a threat, my Praxic friend?” he asked.

“It’s encouragement,” she said grimly.

Shin bit his tongue to avoid a tiny snort that nearly escaped. “I like your style, I do,” he said, crossing his legs in front of himself. It was easy to get sore, sitting in one position too long, and they’d already been here a while. “But you’re looking at the world in black and white. No gray.”

“Black and white, right and wrong,” Aunor said, intense in her confidence. “To align yourself with anything but the Light isn’t only flirting with danger. It’s welcoming the Darkness, wholly and completely. The Praxic Order knows what we stand for.”

She knelt down, her elbows propped on her knees, the shotgun inches away from Shin’s visor. “And what you’re doing, Shadow,” she said, quieter, “is subterfuge. It cannot continue.”

Once upon a time, Shin would have agreed. Things had gone a little different for him down the road, was all.

“You’ll kill me for good, then?” he asked.

Aunor shook her head. “No. I’ll bring you in. Let you learn your rights from your wrongs.”

“I know right and wrong better than you.”

Needled, Aunor drew back. “We’ll see if you keep that ego forever. Summon your Ghost.”

Shin went still.

“Your Ghost,” Aunor repeated, her finger sliding to her trigger. “If it’s easier, I can summon it for you.”

The Void seeped in through Shin’s gloves, cooling his fingers.

“Unless you want to explain what you’ve done to your Ghost, why its frequency doesn’t match your own,” Aunor pressed. “Will it complicate your resurrection?”

Shin did _not_ want to explain that, truthfully. Even if he did, he doubted she would believe him. “I haven’t done anything to my Ghost.”

Aunor stared him down, her grip on her shotgun tightening. One shot, and Shin’s armor would get torn through. He wouldn’t even have a chance to gasp through the death, and there would be nothing to stop Aunor from securing Jaren’s Ghost. None of the Praxic Order knew his face, but they sure as hell would after he was resurrected in the middle of a cell, and the jig would be up –

“Oh, am I interrupting somethin’?”

Aunor whipped around to face the familiar voice, her shotgun raised and ready, duster kicked up behind her. Shin peeked around her to see the Drifter walking into the clearing, both his hands up to plead no harm. The Warlock guarding Shin and Aunor’s interrogation was a couple feet behind him, obviously panicked at having been given the slip.

“Drifter,” Aunor said cautiously. Shin noticed that she moved her finger off the trigger.

“Howdy,” Drifter replied, unbothered, then glanced past her, towards Shin. “Good hunting today, eh, Aunor?”

“Why are you here?” she asked, ignoring the question.

 _Why_ are _you here?_ Shin thought, narrowing his eyes.

Drifter shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Well, guess this is a bit awkward. I heard there was a Shadow rendezvous out here – as y’know, I got my sources.”

Aunor glanced back at Shin. “Yes.”

“And so,” Drifter went on, “thought I’d come out to the party, see if they were the sort you’d wanna take in or not. Turns out you beat me here. Shucks.”

Aunor took a step closer to Drifter, lowering her voice as she spoke to him. Shin strained forward a bit, trying to listen, but couldn’t quite hear – Drifter glanced at him, his eyes flashing, and when he answered her it was with a stage whisper.

“I’m not switchin’ sides,” Drifter was saying, hushed-loud. “Just tryin’ to stay on _your_ good side. Don’t wanna end up struck down by lightning someday for the wrong thing, wrong time, do I?”

Shin pressed his tongue against his teeth as he waited for Aunor to finish her much softer reply. Drifter snorted, backing up with waving, dismissive hands.

“No-no-no, you got it all wrong,” Drifter declared, then pointed at Shin. “He’s not the guy you want. _Trust_. You wanna go after the big fish, start sniffin’ out Teben Grey. Guy’s a real nutcase.”

Aunor stared at him. Shin could feel her skepticism from here.

“Was his idea to start figurin’ Yor out,” Drifter continued, almost sagely, putting his palms together like a prayer. “You’d get way more done by catchin’ him, seein’ as he does all the archiving.”

There was a long pause before Aunor’s shoulders dropped slightly. She turned back towards Shin with a glint of frustration in her sharp eyes.

He shrugged a shoulder in an attempt at a wave.

“You’ve been extremely uncooperative,” she said to him. She slung her shotgun around her back, coming closer so that Shin had to tip his chin up high to even have a chance at looking her in the face. “But here’s your last chance, Shadow.” She jerked her head towards Drifter. “Can you confirm what he’s said?”

“You brokerin’ a deal with me, Aunor?” Shin asked pleasantly. “Thought you didn’t believe in the gray.”

“I don’t,” she said, instant. “But I believe in opportunity.”

Shin looked between Aunor and Drifter, silent as he considered. Finally, he nodded once.

“Alright.” Aunor exhaled, then waved forward the other Praxic Warlock. “Let the Void bindings expire.” Then, at Shin, she said, “Watch your back in the future. And reconsider your company.”

Shin smiled under his helmet. He could feel the tether cuffed around his wrists weaken, but the Void energy wouldn’t wear away entirely until they were long gone. “You too, Aunor. Let’s meet again sometime.”

Before Aunor walked away, she looked at Drifter. “I expect a conversation with you later. We’ll talk about what all that means.”

Drifter crossed his arms over his chest, hiding his hands. “Uh-huh.”

The Warlocks left down the same path they’d arrived. Shin watched the backs of their dusters disappear through the trees, and then he looked at Drifter – Drifter, who was staring at him with open annoyance.

“You almost cost me a lot of trust in my most tentative workin’ relationship,” Drifter said, prickly. “The hell are you doin’ here in the EDZ? Thought we talked this out.”

Shin maneuvered onto his knees, arms still caught behind his back. “Business came callin’.”

“You’re a two-timin’ bastard,” Drifter said matter-of-factly, making no move to help him stand. He waited until Shin was on his feet, then said, “You wanna tell me why you’re all dressed up in Shadow gear?”

Shin glanced down at himself, at the dark Hunter armor and at the black, tattered cloak trailing down his shape. Then he pinned Drifter with a look. “Wanna tell me why you knew where I was?”

Neither of them made an attempt to answer the other. Shin felt ridiculously exposed, no way of moving his arms to grab his gun or even dust himself off, but he knew Drifter wasn’t about to take him out, if only due to the fact that he’d just saved his ass. The guy wasn’t into wasting resources.

Shin licked his dry lips, clenching his hands into fists to keep the feeling in them. He broke the silence first, preferring the option of sincerity over the chance of scrutinization. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Drifter sneered. “Maybe you should start tellin’ people who you are before you go making their lives more difficult,” he said, a touch of bitterness to the dry reply. He motioned Shin forward. “C’mon. To the Derelict we go.”

Shin walked forward, his attention stolen by Drifter’s hand as he reached out to grab Shin by the waist. “Why?”

Drifter eyed him, suggestion in the cut of his grin. “‘Cause you owe me.”

Shin’s breath caught funny. “Been awhile.”

“Whose fault is that?”

There was something off in the sound of Drifter’s laugh as they transmatted up to his ship, but Shin couldn’t figure it out. By the time he’d been plopped onto Drifter’s shoddy bed, he’d forgotten what could’ve been out of place, his hot breath visible in the cold.

But Drifter didn’t go for his belts, or even hint at it. He just waltzed over to his worktable and sipped at what was most likely day-old coffee, his back to Shin and the bed. Shin inspected the tight line of his shoulders. Someone was wound up, nervous. Anxious. Shin’s fingers itched to work it out of him, but the Void was still cold around his wrists.

“If I let you outta those,” Drifter said, still facing away from him, “You gonna quit starin’ daggers at me?”

“Yeah.” Shin sat up, boots braced on the floor. “Figured you’d like me better defenseless.”

Drifter gave him a glance over his shoulder, then scoffed. “C’mere.”

Shin pushed himself off the bed, then walked over to the worktable. Drifter brandished a small sidearm that looked like no model Shin had ever seen – it was either something new or something modded. He watched Drifter load in suppression bolts and thought _yeah, modded._

“Clever,” Shin remarked.

Drifter smirked slightly, pleased. “Was originally for Gambit, buuut – well, people have a hard time givin’ up their shotguns.”

He moved to stand behind Shin, then held Shin’s arm in place with one hand as he aimed the sidearm down at the Void energy. Shin stayed very, very still, holding his breath, focused more on Drifter’s grip on him than he was the threat of the gun.

“Don’t move,” Drifter murmured. Shin shut his eyes.

The gun went _pop!_ and with a sound like something dissipating, the warmth returned to Shin’s hands all at once. Shin relaxed, Drifter’s hold sliding off his arm – lingering longer than was strictly required – as he leaned around Shin to place the sidearm on the worktable, his front pressed to Shin’s back.

Shin shook his head to clear it of whispers or worse.

“Easy,” Drifter said, surprised, then backed off. “I was jokin’ about you owin’ me, you know –”

Shin grabbed Drifter’s wrists and spun him around, pressing his back up against the worktable. Drifter looked at him, wide-eyed but curious, mouth open and certainly about to ruin the moment. Shin transmatted his helmet off so he could kiss him quiet. Drifter made a noise against his lips, melting against Shin as he licked into his mouth and kissed him deep and thorough.

Pulling away for a second just to breathe, Shin grinned a fleeting, thoughtless smile. “This isn’t payback,” he assured Drifter. “This is thanks.”

Drifter inhaled hard. “Oh, well, in that case…”

Shin yanked Drifter’s belts off, pushing his robes open and rifling through his layers to unclasp what he could with his eager fingers. Drifter pulled Shin’s cloak free from his shoulders, giving it a strange look as he discarded it, and though Shin’s heart twinged with anxiety, Drifter said nothing as he pulled him close once more for a longer, hungrier kiss.

Undressing was the most difficult part to get through, both of them with their armors and layers, and it would’ve been so much faster to just transmat it all away – but there was something of value in the chase, the thrill of reaching bare skin after a momentary struggle between material and blind grabbing through kisses and gasps. Shin liked these battles with Drifter, the back and forth, but he wasn’t going to bow out easy when he’d just gotten his hands free.

Shin won out first, shoving his hand into Drifter’s pants to make him groan. Drifter jerked back so fast his elbow hit the worktable, making the contents on top of it shake precariously. Shin hid his laugh by biting Drifter’s throat.

“Fuck,” Drifter huffed out. “You wanna thank me, don’t be a tease.”

Shin pulled back to turn Drifter around entirely, bending him over his worktable with a shove.

“This good?” Shin asked, carefully pushing Drifter’s old, half-finished mug of coffee away.

“Yeah, yeah,” Drifter breathed, legs spread, head down. He looked back at Shin, fiery, and Shin was dizzy with it all of a sudden. “Yeah. This’s good.”

Shin got his own pants down far enough and then pushed Drifter’s down by his knees, searching hastily in the drawer for the bottle he _knew_ still had to be in here — it’d been awhile, but not _that_ long. Drifter tossed it to him after a horrible, impatient second, and Shin barely had a chance to manage a sound of gratefulness before he was slicking his fingers up to press them into Drifter.

It wasn’t just thanks making Shin’s skin burn inside-out from want, nor was it only thanks pushing him to get Drifter moaning and dripping. But calling Shin’s need to take him apart _lust_ alone would be a disservice.

Drifter pushed back onto the first finger ‘til he got down to the knuckle, made it easy for Shin to move on to two not long after. Shin curled his fingers inside of him and felt him jolt, swear, choke. He chased that response again until Drifter was begging nonsensical little curses at him, loud with his want. Shin bowed over him, kissing between his shoulder blades and licking sweat from the bumps of his spine, and when he felt Drifter shiver, he pressed his teeth into his skin.

Much more and Drifter wouldn’t be able to keep himself standing, and that wouldn’t do. Shin fucked him open enough with his fingers, right up on that edge, Drifter’s legs shaking as he slammed his hand against the worktable and made his mug spill over.

“ _Shin_ ,” he gritted out, sharp, and just like that, Shin withdrew his fingers to slick himself up instead.

He’d gotten what he’d really wanted. If it was intoxicating to hear Drifter rasp out his name, _his_ name, not Renegade, not another –

Could Shin really be blamed for wanting to hear it?

Just like Drifter had told him earlier, Shin murmured a soft, “Easy,” as he stroked his length once, twice, then lined up their hips.

He pressed the head of his cock into Drifter, slowly, slowly, and Drifter exhaled a sucker-punch of a noise, a breathy, tiny whisper of _yes_ , like he hadn’t meant to be heard at all. Shin focused in on that and on the heat, focused on the roiling want and the storm of desires in his chest. Once their bodies were flush, Shin rested his forehead on Drifter’s back.

Both of them breathed – Shin shallowly, Drifter deeply. Maybe Shin was going crazy, but the world felt slower and smaller here.

And this –

This was good.

Shin only started moving his hips back and forth when his heart rate calmed and he wasn’t on the verge of crashing and burning. Drifter kept his forehead against his arm and his face hidden, groaning a sound low in his throat as Shin got just the right angle. Shin straightened up to hold onto Drifter’s hips, pulling him back into each thrust forward.

He would’ve kept that up too, if not for the fact that Drifter reached down to stroke himself in time with Shin’s movements. Shin pushed his hand out of the way to do it himself, maybe a little too fervently, and got a good grip around Drifter’s cock, wet with precum.

Whatever protest was on Drifter’s tongue seemed to die the second Shin touched him, because he moaned something relieved and elated into the crook of his arm. The air was hot enough around them now to ward away any chill from the icy ship, but even if it had still been cold, Shin wouldn’t have noticed, too wrapped up in the man against him.

Shin’s rhythm stuttered as he sped up, Drifter egging him on with strings of _yes-yes-yes_ that sounded fond enough that Shin could almost fool himself. Drifter gripped his wrist where Shin was stroking him, urging him faster, and Shin couldn’t help it; he fucked into him hard and fast and _good_ ‘til his ears rang, ‘til he couldn’t hear  anything but Drifter’s pleasure and all he could see when he blinked was Drifter’s skin, flushed with exertion –  

Shin shuddered and bit Drifter’s shoulder as he came, Drifter’s fingers digging hard into his wrist as he followed over the edge along with him.

Standing there at the worktable, attempting to regain his faculties, Shin had the bright idea to find a mostly-clean rag and wipe his wet hand down. He waited until Drifter was no longer gasping for breath before he pulled out and wiped him clean too, specifically not looking at the floor where most of Drifter’s mess would’ve landed.

After a long pause filled mainly with heaving breaths and little twitches of overworked muscles, Drifter glanced back at Shin, sweat beading at his brow. Against his arm, he managed, “You should get arrested more often.”

Shin snorted, stumbling back a step and turning to lean against the adjacent side of the worktable. “Only if you keep bailing me out.”

Drifter pushed himself upright with a long sigh. “That was a one-time thing,” he admitted. “Can’t be jeopardizing shit with her.” He side-eyed Shin. “Not even for you.”

Shin didn’t know how to explain why that stung. So he wet his lips while he gathered up his clothes again and said, “Thanks for bailing out a two-timin’ bastard, all the same.”

“Yeah, about that.” Drifter pulled up his pants, fixing his belts. “Fuck you. We had an arrangement.”

“We did,” Shin said, apologetic. Then, “We still do. I didn’t intend on breaking our agreement. Something came up. Something...unexpected.”

Drifter looked him over then, studied him from the black cloak ringing his shoulders to the heavy armor the Renegade never would’ve been caught in. He looked especially hard at Shin’s holster – empty, mind you – and Shin wondered for half a second what sort of gun he was picturing there.

Not a half-burned Thorn left in a pile of ashes, surely.

“Coulda given me a heads up,” Drifter said then, in a way Shin would almost dismiss as sulking if not for the very real discernment in his eye.

“Yeah. I’m not used to…”

“I get it,” Drifter interrupted. “Do your vengeance thing, just don’t let it involve me. I don’t want any of _your_ shit darkening _my_ doorstep, y’know?” He laughed then, a little shakily. “Dyin’ don’t pay well.”

Shin still had a hundred questions – _why’re you so close with Aunor, what’s the deal with the Vanguard, are we good?_ – but Drifter made it obvious that talking was over and done with when he turned his back to busy himself with whatever project was on his table, so Shin bit his tongue.

Still, before Shin took his leave, he closed the space between them and leaned in to brush his lips against Drifter’s cheek, touched his side with feather-light fingers.

“I’ll be seein’ you,” Shin said quietly, pretending not to notice the way Drifter tensed all over at the unexpected show of affection.

“You know where to find me,” Drifter muttered, slowly, incrementally, relaxing once more.

Shin transmatted his helmet back into his arms, watching him for a second longer before leaving to tread a different path.

He’d return weeks later, this time to the Annex – not to break their arrangement, but to pay a visit. And Drifter would smile, hook-line-sinker, and let him right in.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. :)


End file.
